


Room For One More

by Charliem2107



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Clark Kent is a Bad Parent, Confused Conner Kent, F/M, Female Bruce Wayne, Male Talia al Ghul, Timeline is Fucked, another one joins the batfam, love Bryce, she has no time for Clark’s bullshit, slightly OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charliem2107/pseuds/Charliem2107
Summary: Inspired by the first season of Young Justice, Batwoman and Superboy develop a tentative relationship in which Bryce can’t help but mother. A series of event in which Conner is able to worm his way into Bryce’s heart and discover that to have the love of Superman isn’t everything.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Kon-El | Conner Kent & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 27
Kudos: 214





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Daylight Hours](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27737311) by [ThatDamnKennedyKid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDamnKennedyKid/pseuds/ThatDamnKennedyKid). 



> Some parts are inspired by YJ, some are how I remember them to be but are probably inaccurate and some are mine. 
> 
> I have a soft spot for this father-son relationship and feel like it could have been a good plot point is YJ was ballsy enough, but it has been left to fanfic to give us what we want.
> 
> Note: I may have something to add to this at a later date
> 
> Enjoy x

The Justice League descended on the ruins of CADMUS, some on fluorescent green platforms sprouted from shining green rings, others floating through the air with their capes billowing behind them as they lowered themselves to the rubble.

“I can explain,” Robin announced, springing from an exposed copper pipe onto the stony ground. He was bold and confident, despite having disobeyed direct orders to not take on CADMUS alone. Batwoman hid her bleeding pride at her little Robin behind a grimace that continually threaten to become a small smile. She moved to stand behind the other founding leaguers, who formed an apex with Superman at the point. The stared down Robin, Kid Flash and Aqualad who shielded a fourth figure behind them. It was quickly becoming apparent that Kal was waiting for a confession that the three teen heroes weren’t willing to reveal just yet. During this stalemate, which Bryce was starting to lose her patience with, a boy with jet black hair, falling over his hopeful, blue eyes stepped forward through his barricade. He wore a skin-tight white one-piece suit that was torn across the left side of his torso, revealing golden, slightly muscled skin. The material of the suit fell across his body like the undone lapel of a military tunic. He silently stood in front of the Man of Steel and gazed up at him, that hopeful glint in the sea of his irises refusing to waver. He pulled back the flap of lycra, displaying a red ’S’ emblazoned on his chest. Superman took one look at the boy and bolted into the sky. The hope died in the boy’s eyes and he lowered his head to the ground in resignation.

The league surveyed each other, speechless, but then moved to orchestrate the clean-up. Batwoman seemingly stalked toward the band of teenagers and halted at the boy in white. Her heart swelled with sorrow as she stared at his high cheekbones marred with shadow. She glanced over his shoulder at the three behind him and watched confusion spread across Kid Flash’s and Aqualad’s faces but gleeful pride overcome Robin’s. She turned her gaze back to the dark-haired boy a foot in front of her, blue eyes blinking into blue as he looked up at her. Her crimson lips upturned into a muted but reassuring smile as she black-gloved hand on his shoulder and squeezed. His lips started to mimic hers.

\- - -

“Welcome to Mount Justice,” Black Canary greeted, “This is where you team will be based, where you’ll train and where you can regroup.” She gestured to the sprawling control room that began to cycle through various training modules to demonstrate what Canary had just explained. She stood proud in the centre of the glowing platform while Batwoman lurked in the shadows as she watched three boys and J’onn’s niece (who recently joined) bounce around the rocky cavern with unadulterated glee.

As she monitored the room, she spied the newly named ‘Superboy’ sulk in the shadow. She new she would kick herself for this later, but her inner mother hen would never be able to leave a child looking so glum. Batwoman glided across the cave and sidled next to the teen. “What’s wrong?” She asked quietly.

Superboy startled and swung to face the black-cloaked woman, “What? Nothing,” he exclaimed.

Her head tilted to the left slightly in lieu of a disbelieving eyebrow raise. Superboy sighed, “I just feel like I don’t belong here.”

“How so?” She pressed calmly.

“Everyone here is a hero. And they have someone to help them be that. I’m just an experiment.”

Bryce chewed on this and understood what it was like to not feel like the hero she tried to be; the protector of the most innocent. She knew what it was like to look at everyone else and see everything that your weren’t and everything you didn’t have. She knew what it was like to be an outsider. She also knew what it took to fight that.

“We should have asked before, not just assumed, but do you have a name?”

Superboy looked her, utter confusion plastered on his face and answered, “Superboy.”

She smiled, “Not a heroic alias, but a name you can be called outside of the cape.”

Superboy frowned. His dark, perfect eyebrows knitted together on displeasure. “I don’t know,” he muttered tentatively.

“What did they call you at CADMUS?”

“I’m not sure. Sometimes I thought I could hear things outside of the pod, but it wasn’t always clear. I think they called me ‘Project Kr’.”

“Kr,” Batwoman hummed, “Would you like a name?”

“Why -“ he started. Then his eyebrows knit further and the hopeful gleam Bryce noticed when Superboy had emerged from behind the team a few weeks ago returned, “Yeah. I think I would.”

They both mulled this other, silently trying to think of a name together. “Kr,” Bruce whispered, “How about ‘Conner’?”

A shy smile escaped from Superboy, “I think I like that. I think I sound like a Conner.”

“Well then, welcome to the Team, Conner,” with that Bryce started to walks away immeasurably proud of that boy who had only been awake for a few weeks. Her heart swelled dangerously with warmth for him.

“Batwoman,” Conner called from behind her, “Thank you,” he finished shyly. She rewarded him with a rare and private smile.

\- - -

Bryce sat in the nook of a leather diner sofa. She gazed out of the window that started to mist with the steam from the coffee machine, twiddling the ring sheathed on her finger as she waited patiently for her guest. Apple pie, chocolate cake and coffee rested on the linoleum-topped table.

“I see you ordered without me,” a smooth, male tenor said. Clark appeared at Bryce’s side and bent down to place a kiss on her cheek. He slid into the seat opposite her and smiled, “Not that I’m complaining but isn’t date night tomorrow.”

“It is,” she said around her coffee.

“And you ordered my favourite. Are you trying to butter me up?”

Bryce place her mug carefully on the table but continued to cup it with both hands, “That depends.” Clark looked at her quizzically, so she sighed, “The boy needs you.”

“No,” Clark snapped, “He doesn’t. He needs you or Canary.”

“I’m sorry, Clark, but your wrong,” she place her left hand over his, “He may need me and, I know Conner troubles you, but he needs you as well. He can’t continue to live a solitary life in that cave. You need to get over the how or why. Trust me, Conner needs his father.”

“I’m not his father!”

“Clark -“

“Father’s get a choice. They don’t get a pre-made kid they had no knowledge of.”

“Don’t. You. Dare,” Bryce’s trembled viciously with anger. She stood from the table and stepped to its side, sliding the ring off of her finger as she did. She placed the diamond on the table next to Clark’s apple pie, “Give that back when you decide to behave like the man I fell in love with.”

She strode out of the diner, drawing her leather jacket closer to her body, not looking back at Clark.

\- - -

“Welcome home, Conner.” 

Conner stared bug-eyed and wide-mouthed at his bedroom. It was twice the size of his room at the cave. It was lined with rich mahogany and shelves were stacked to the brim with books. Conner had always wanted to read. He’d been taught about so many books while he was being grown, but he wanted to see with his own eyes how amazing he already thought them to be. An elegant four-poster bed sat against the back wall, jarringly opposite to to the 40 inch wide screen TV hung from the other wall.

“Your bathroom is just to the left here and the walk-in is next to the bed,” Bryce casually explained, gesturing appropriately with her hands.

“Walk-in?”

“Your wardrobe.”

“It’s a separate room?”

Bryce smiled amusedly, but fondly and nodded.

“This is gonna be totally asterous,” a higher-pitched voice declared from the door.

“Dick, let Conner settle in before your start swinging from the chandeliers.”

“Can I ask you something, Mrs Wayne?” wondered Conner.

“Of course, and Bryce is fine.”

“Why did you take me in and tell me who you are?”

Bryce sighed and moved over to the bed, sitting on it gently and patting the space next to her, encouraging Conner to sit. Conner obliged and Dick took his cue to step away.

“Conner, I took you in because I saw a boy that needed help; that needed family. I know a bit about what that’s like and so does Dick. Living in the cave and having your teammates waltz in and out is good, but it’s not a way for someone to live, let alone someone as hurt as you,” she paused to make sure he was taking what she was saying in, “I told you who I was so you knew that your family didn’t start and stop at Superman. I’ll be there for you always, as long as you need me.”

“Why aren’t you wearing your ring?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I, uh ... googled you, when you told me who you were. It said your engaged to Clark Kent - who kind looks like me. I’m assuming he’s Superman.”

“No comment,” she smiled, and Conner did too. She was very impressed with his detective work. Looks like she’s going to have a new protege on her hands.

“I learned that when people get engaged, they normally wear a ring on their left hand. But, you aren’t.”

She sighed, “Clark is a good man. He’s brave and kind and hope incarnate. His smile is the brightest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s why I fell in love with him. But, he’s scared of you. He doesn’t know anything about you and that terrifies him. But, it’s no excuse. Even if he doesn’t want to be like a father to you, he shouldn’t be treating you like he is.”

“But, if you love him and he’s so great, why would you give back the ring?”

“To give him a choice,” Bryce then clasped Conner’s hands in hers and gave them a loving squeeze, “and to make him understand that I deeply care about you; product of Luthor or not. Dick would say I have a thing for collecting strays, but I just want to see that every child has somewhere safe. Clones of my fiancé included.”

“Why?”

Her voice grew softer but more serious, “I have my own reasons, some more depressing than others, but I’m not going to sit by and watch you get rejected by the man that should be like your father.”

“I used to wonder what it’d be like to have a mom. Having two dads is great, but Lex and Supes aren’t exactly parents of the year.”

She gently cupped his chin with one hand and stroked her thumb over his cheek, “You don’t have to keep wondering.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bryce and Clark argue and she has another heart to heart with Conner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been bugging me since I write the first chapter. It’s a bit sad,I hope you don’t mind
> 
> Warning: Mentions of stillbirth and a lot of dialogue

Dick and Conner lounged along the patent sofas of the small, family run cafe munching on fries and sandwiches as they did every Friday afternoon after school. It had become a tradition, that Bryce encouraged, since both boys had the time away the Academy and the Team. The teenagers sat in amicable silence as Dick eagerly shoved fries into his mouth and Conner twirled a paper straw between his fingers.

Conner’s silent reverie was broken by a small hand waving in front of his face. He blinked his glassy eyes until they became focused again.

“Zoned out on me there, Kon. Anything worth listening to,” asked Dick, amusedly.

Conner shifted in his seat, slightly uncomfortable at being caught using his powers accidentally. Stuttering he said, “No, uh, sometimes I can’t help it, my hearing just zones into Mom.”

A giddy grin exploded onto the shorter boy’s face as Conner’s slip up dawned on him. He looked up into Dick’s bright blue eyes and his mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish. Dick only lasted a few moments before he acquiesced and saved the half-Kryptonian from his misery. Placing a hand on Conner’s shoulder, Dick reassured, “Hey, it’s alright. You can think of Bryce that way. And I have it great authority - my own, in fact - that she’d be absolutely thrilled that you consider her that.”

Conner relaxed, so Dick asked, “What’s B up to anyway?”

Conner had the decency to look appropriately sheepish and subdued, “Fighting with Clark.”

“Disastrous,” Dick breathed.

\- - -

“Clark, I don’t want to listen to your tantrum anymore,” Bryce told her fiancé as she jogged down the stairs into the foyer of Wayne Manor with the intention of going to the library. Clark followed hastily behind her.

“You should have told me, Bryce. I can’t believe you let him into the Manor.”

She turned abruptly at his stern voice, standing steadfastly and glowering at him, “What is so hard to believe?”

“You’ve let him into your home. He is a weapon designed to kill me!”

“He is a child,” she screamed, “Start treating him a such.”

“We have no idea what he’s capable of. By taking him out of Mount Justice you’ve put Dick, Alfred, you and, the entirety of Gotham at risk. He’s a liability and he’s dangerous.”

“So were you! Or have you forgotten that at the start of your career as Superman you had no idea where you even came from, or what you were,” she moved closer and began punctuating each subsequent clause with a pointed finger to Clark’s chest, “You were unchecked, you were a liability, you were dangerous. But, did that stop you from saving people?”

Clark was silent, which only riled Bryce further, “You have no right to consider him anything other than as one of your own.”

“He is not one of my own,” Clark burst, “He is Luthor’s doing. I had no say in the matter.”

“Parentage has nothing to do with it,” she whispered darkly.

“Of course it does,” Clark exclaimed.

“Well, I’m sure Martha will be thrilled to know that her son is acting like an asshole under her guidance. And, don’t think I won’t tell her about how you’re treating her grandchild.”

“He is not her grandchild! If you think I’m just gonna stand back and watch you put everyone at risk because you can’t snap out of your self-sacrificing, protector-of-all mindset then -“

The front door burst open and Dick burst in, a melancholy Conner trailing behind him, “I think you need to go, Supes. You can’t treat Conner’s Mom like that.”

The elder heroes and Superboy looked at the Boy Wonder in shock and surprise at the statement as Dick scowled fiercely.

“I can’t believe you,” Clark muttered as he walked towards the door and took off towards the clouds.

“Bryce, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have -“ Conner started in apology until Bryce cut him off.

“Conner, walk with me,” she passed Dick on her way out the front to door towards the Manor Gardens and kissed his temple, whispering, “Thank you,” and lovingly clasping his slender shoulder.

\- - -

They walked towards a pristine wooden bench, nestled in the hedges of the rose garden. Once they sat, Conner boomed into apology again, “I swear I didn’t mean to listen in -“

“I know,” she said softly turning her head to face his stricken, lapis eyes, “Do you really think of me as your mother?”

Conner looked sheepishly at his legs, still wrapped in his school uniform, and murmured, “Yeah.”

“I’ve been waiting a long time for someone to call me that,” Bryce breathed and before Conner could say anything, she spoke, “I’m sure you’d like to know why I fight Clark for you.”

“Yeah.”

“Clark doesn’t get it. He never has. He may have been the last of his kind, but he has no idea what it feels like to have the world close down to just you against everyone else. He has family, so doesn’t know what it’s like not to have them there. He doesn’t see you as a son,  _yet_ , so he can’t fathom how much it will destroy him if you weren’t here.”

“You sound like you’re talking from experience,” Conner huffed.

“I am.” Conner looked up, the apologetic glint returned to his eyes. “I’m going to tell you something. It my shed some light on to why I picked you over Clark - for once I hope he’s listening in. You will be the seventh person to know.”

“Know what?”

“Not long after I adopted Dick, but before I met Clark and joined the League, I had, what you might call, a one night stand with a man named Taron. I met him while training to become Batwoman. We got on well. Very well. Then, five years later,he turns up in Gotham. Needless to say, I fell pregnant. It was unexpected; unwanted. I was convinced it was going to get in the way of everything. It’s strange how quickly you can fall in love with something that doesn’t exist yet. It wasn’t until the eight and a half month mark that Taron found out.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“His lifestyle wasn’t something I wanted for my child.”

“Your’s is?” Conner asked incredulously.

Bryce huffed a small laugh, “I suppose not. But, Taron was an assassin for a very, let’s say, intense group. Anyway, he broke into the Manor ready to take my baby away. To train him to be an assassin. But, he was too late.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He was stillborn. My baby was born dead.”

“Oh,” Conner said mutely.

“Yeah.”

“That’s why you get so angry about Clark wanting nothing to do with me. He’s says he had no choice in my creation, but neither did you. And he still gets the choice to be in my life, when you didn’t get the opportunity to be in your son’s.”

“So perceptive. So much like Clark.”

“He’s not that perceptive,” he mumbled.

“He’ll come around, eventually. Give him time. And, if he doesn’t, I’ll set his mother on him.”

“I think I’d like to meet her.”

“I’ll take you to her and his father.”

“But Clark -“

“Don’t worry about him. She’ll be ecstatic to meet you.”

“Who knows?”

“You, Alfred, Dick, Taron, my friend Selina and, Clark’s parents - they had some experience with it.”

There was a beat of silence before Conner asked, “What was his name? Your son?”

“Damian. Damian Thomas Alfred Wayne.”

“That’s a nice name. You’re good a naming things.”

The mother and her son sat on the lone bench in the garden for the rest of the afternoon as the sun set, turning the blue sky orange. That sat together in peaceful silence, looking fondly at the pink roses that bloomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of notes: 
> 
> I mentioned that Jonathon and Martha had experience with stillbirths. In this universe, before finding Clark, they tried for years to get pregnant and had several miscarriages before carrying a baby to full term, only for it to be stillborn. I imagine this to be about a year before Clark crash landed (sorry for the sadness, I promise I love the Kents)
> 
> Also, cause Ra’s and Talia (Taron) are mental they put baby Damian in the Lazarus pit without Bryce’s knowledge and are raising him within the league. She’s got no idea. Sorry it’s unsavoury but let’s be honest, they’ve done worse.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s time for some explaining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just gonna say here that while Conner seems a bit naive and childlike I think that’s more appropriate for someone born at 15-years-old with no life experience. He’s experiencing everything for the first time so he would be like that. In YJ I think he’s only angry because he’s locked in a cave 24/7, but he’s in this.
> 
> Also, Martha doesn’t completely whoop Clark’s arse, but she beats the mean out of him in her own special Martha kent guilt tripping way.
> 
> Enjoy guys x hope Clark’s apology was worth the wait

“It smells so … clean,” Conner breathed as he climbed out of Bryce’s silver Aston Martin Vanquish, pulling the passenger seat forward to let Dick clamber out as well.

“Well, if anyone were to reap the benefit it would be the one with super-smell,” Dick quipped.

Conner furrowed his brow, confusion marring his thin lips, “I don’t have super-smell.”

Bryce smiled, locked her car and approached her boys from behind. She reached up and passed her hands affectionately through their dark hair, laughing as she looked down to see them carefully restyle it. She was glad that she was blessed with her father’s height, even when swapping high heels for well-worn converse, thinking that she wouldn’t be able to do that for much longer.

She waltzed through the gap left by the two boys as they parted like the Red Sea, turning away from the matriarch to continue fiddling with their hair. She strode towards the wooden porch that jutted out from the wood-panelled, white farmhouse that had already begun staining yellow in the uncovered Kansas sun. A kindly-looking elderly couple, the woman in a floral pinafore and the man in greased jeans and a worn shirt, came through the wooden door to greet her.

“You’ve cut your hair,” the older woman cooed as she embraced Bryce in a firm hug, pulling back and tugging gently on the strand that had fallen in front of the younger woman’s eyes. Bryce ran her left hand through her newly acquired pixie haircut, tucking the black strand behind her ear once again.

“Well, I think it looks lovely,” the man chirped as he kissed Bryce on the cheek.

“Thank you, Jon. Martha, how have you been?”

“We’ve been just fine. But from what I’ve heard you’ve been less than dandy.”

“Can we talk about that later? First, I have someone I’d like you to meet,” Bryce turned away from the Kents and called for Conner to come over.

“Jon. Martha, “ she began turning to both, “This is Conner. Conner, this is Jonathan and Martha Kent.”

“It’s really nice to meet you,” Kon added.

“Why don’t you come inside so we can get better acquainted,” Martha said as her and Jonathan stared at the dark haired, blue eyed, chiseled jawed teenager in utter shock.

-

“I can’t believe he didn’t say anything to you,” Bryce sighed exasperatedly, shaking her her head as she lowered it into her hands that were propped up on the table by her elbows. She just had to explain to her future in-laws that the other teenager belonging to the Wayne family was, in fact, their grandchild. It seemed that Clark didn’t deem this important to tell his parents, but telling them that they might not be getting married anymore didn’t slip his mind.

“He told us that you gave your ring back.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not going to marry him. I love him. I really do, but he needs to know that I’m not letting go of Conner.”

“I just don’t understand it,” Jonathan sighed, shaking his head, “I’ve never known Clark to be like this, and certainly not with a child.”

“I think he’s scared.”

“What do you mean?” Martha asked patting Bryce’s hand encouragingly.

Bryce sighed, “Well, there’s the usual becoming-a-parent-scared. We’ve all had that. But how Conner came about wasn’t exactly … normal,” she glanced out of the kitchen window from the dining table to make sure two boys were still walking around the field. “Conner is Clark’s clone, but in order for the cloning process to be successful a human donor was needed. The donor was Lex Luthor. I think Clark’s terrified that Conner’s going to complete his original purpose and kill him.”

“My word,” the couple gasped.

“But, I think Dick found him, before Conner could be taught that.”

“Taught?” Jonathan questioned.

“Conner was grown in a pod at an accelerated rate,” Bryce explained, “He was fed information on most things - there are gaps, which is why we think we got him out before he was ready. But, still, Clark’s petrified that there’s still some of Luthor in him.”

“Honey, maybe it’s time to tell Clark. If he knew your unique perspective on the matter he might come around. But first I’m going to rip that boy a new one.”

“Well, Martha,” Jonathan announced, “looks like that storm of yours is coming sooner rather than later. Clark just landed outside. Come on, Bryce. Can you help me with the tractor? We’re going to want to be scarce for this,” he continued, mirth lacing his voice.

-

“Hey Ma,” Clark greeted as he walked through the front door.

“Don’t you ‘Hey Ma’ me, Clark Kent,” she replied sternly. He gulped. Audibly. It wasn’t often he was disciplined by Martha Kent, but when he was he felt it rumbling towards him like a hurricane, and it never failed to make him feel thoroughly guilty.

“Why didn’t you tell us that we had a grandchild running about?”

Clark slumped into the dining room chair as his mother stood over him, her small stature doing nothing to quell the wild disappointment in her eyes. “Because he’s not -“

“Don’t feed me that crap, Clark,” she chided. He stared up at her in surprise. It wasn’t often she swore, so when his sweet, dear, old mother did it never failed to shock Clark into submission. She clasped his hands to stop his fingers from picking at his nails - a nervous twitch that often appeared when Clark was trying to conceal something. “Clark,” her voice was gently and soothing, “I know you’re scared. But you have nothing to be afraid of. That young man is nothing like Lex.”

He breathed a deep breath, “It’s just, I’ve spent the whole of my life being the last of my kind. And I thought, if I was ever able to change that, it would be because the woman I loved helped me to do that. I can’t look at him and not see Lex, knowing why he did it.”

“I know, honey. You want to know what I see?” Her motherly voice soothed him, rolling over his ears like sweet molasses, “I see you. And Bryce. Conner has kind eyes and a warm heart, and I don’t doubt that he uses that for good.”

“He’s Superboy.”

“I have heard some rumours about that. Do you think he’d really be doing any of those things if Luthor was in any part of him?”

“Maybe not.”

“So, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” she stated.

“I suppose,” Clark murmured.

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“He calls Bryce ‘Mom’, Ma. I don’t think I can be his Dad. At least not yet.”

“Oh Clark,” she rubbed his shoulders with her slightly wrinkled hands, “He’s not asking you to be. Conner just needs to know that you’re there for him, that he has someone to help him with the strange powers he was born with. Be that someone you were unable to have.”

“I think I can do that,” Clark said, more certain of himself. He knew what lied ahead of him - a long road. But he wasn’t afraid of that anymore. If Bryce, Conner and his parents could look past Luthor’s involvement in Superboy’s creation, so could he. It finally hit him - he was no longer the ‘Last Son of Krypton’.

“You still need to apologise to Bryce and Conner, though. And you need to have a talk with your fiancé, there’s something she needs to tell you.”

“I know. I ... heard.” At least he had the decency to look sheepish, Martha thought.

-

“I think I see what the problem is,” Bryce gritted out from underneath the ageing  _ John Deere _ tractor. She slid out on the wheeled board and rose to sit up right, “Dick, could you pass me that bucket?” She asked, pointing to the dented tin can that sat in the corner of the well kept barn. It was old and rust scattered the rim. Bryce surmised that it was probably used to collect milk from cows, back when the Kent farm still had them.

The teen handed her the bucket and she moved back under the tractor to spin a bolt loose while Dick stood next to Conner, who looked on with rapt attention. Bryce then came back out from under the tractor cradling a bucket of thick, black sludge. “Jon, when was the last time you serviced the motor on this thing?”

“Would have been the last time I used the thing. So,” he thought for a moment, a moment longer than Bryce would have liked, “1989.”

Bryce chuckled as Conner stared at her like a fish, “You alright there, Kon?”

“How’d you know who to do that?”

“I like cars.”

“But, why do you need to know? You’re -“

“A girl,” Bryce teased, a smirk playing at her crimson lips.

“No!” Conner shouted hurriedly, before quietening down,coming to realise that he was being teased, “But, don’t you have people to do that for you?”

Jonathan chuckled harmlessly over Dick’s sniggering before the younger boy questioned, “Who do you think built the Batmobile?”

“Alfred.” Naturally, Dick burst into a fit of giggles at Conner’s admission. “You built it?” Conner turned to Bryce, voice overflowing with awe.

“I did. My dad was a big car lover; half the cars in my collection were his. Every Sunday we used to tinker with them. Then, when I was travelling the world, I ended up in a dojo in Japan. They grew or made most of there resources on site, but the stuff they couldn’t, I had to get. I had no money, so I used to fix people’s cars, bikes, once a frozen yoghurt machine, in exchange for food or cash to buy supplies. They had the best street food,” she remarked wistfully, “I should take you two there sometime.”

She placed the bucket of sludge on the hay-dusted ground and took the rag Jonathan handed to her to clean her hands of ancient oil. Then, someone called to her.

“Bryce.” A familiar voice. Her favourite. She turned around, discarding the oily rag on the rickety workbench. She thought that she should come and fix that at some point - for all Clark liked to think himself a typical Kansan farm boy: strong, cheery and rugged, he was dreadful with his hands. He couldn’t build a flat-pack table without turning it into an abstract piece of art. A source of much deserved teasing. 

Now, don’t think this aside means Clark is forgiven. Bryce is still royally pissed off. Deep blue eyes and a smile that could melt steel wasn’t going to get him out of the doghouse anytime soon. Really.

“Bryce, can I talk to you?” She had thought about this. She had thought about telling him to ‘fuck off’, she had thought about giving him the silent treatment, she had also thought about making him sweat it out as she took endless minutes to answer his questions. But, he continued, “And you too, Conner? Please,” he pleaded.

Damn him for making her feel like she kicked a puppy. He never meant to do that, but that was his real superpower.

“Okay,” she said softly, guiding the two Kryptonians behind the barn for some privacy. When she was satisfied that their conversation couldn’t be overheard, she gazed at Clark expectantly. Conner looked downright confused.

Clark took a deep, cleansing breath, collecting his thoughts to make what he was about to say as clear and as simple as possible. He purposely looked at Conner. The boy need to know that this was for him, that Clark didn’t blame him, that his upcoming plea was for him. Clark knew that Bryce knew this was for her as well, but Conner needed to see it.

Clark stared at a face that looked so much like his own and said, “I’m sorry.

“I know that’s not enough, but I am. I know it’s a bit late now, but I shouldn’t have treated you like I did. I was scared - not of you, but of what you were meant to be. And, that’s Luthor’s fault, not your’s. 

“For what it’s worth, Conner, I am very sorry and even if I can’t be your Dad right now, like Bryce is. Like she’s your Mom, I mean,” he stammered, “I will help you, if you still want me to.”

And much to Clark’s surprise, Conner replied, “I forgive you. I get it. I mean, if my arch-nemesis created a clone of me and used their DNA to stabilise the development of that clone so it could grow to kill me, I’d be scared too. But, I want you to know, I wouldn’t do that. Dick said that according to the data he downloaded from CADMUS when I was rescued, I wasn’t finished. I don’t know some things. I didn’t know there were so many books in the world, I didn’t know that horses lived on farms sometimes, but I’m learning things.Most importantly, I learned that I get to make my own choices and think my own things; not what CADMUS put in my head. My choice is that I don’t want to kill you.”

“Thank you, Conner. You’re going to be an amazing hero. I can see that now.”

“I also learned that the symbol on my T-shirt isn’t just the logo of the guy I was meant to kill. It’s your family crest. Wally told me. I don’t think I should wear it.”

Clark looked in his eerily similar eyes and stated, “You should. Right now, you deserve it more than me.”

Conner stared wide-eyed, “But -“

Clark rested his hand on Conner’s shoulder and squeezed paternally, “You may have been born Project Kr, you may be called Conner Wayne - or Kent?” He looked over Conner’s shoulder and quirked his eyebrow, to which Bryce shook her head in fond exasperation. It seemed Clark was gingerly clawing his way back, “But, I’m telling you, you are an El.”

“I don’t have a name, Kal.”

“Okay. Superboy. Conner Kent-Wayne.”

“Wayne-Kent,” Bryce corrected quickly and absolutely.

Clark nodded with a smile, “Superboy. **Conner Wayne-Kent**. Welcome to the family, Kon-El. I know this isn’t a magic fix but -“

“It’s a start,” Kon supplied, “Wait, hold that thought. Ma’s just pulled cookies out of the oven,” with that he ran toward the sound of the egg-timer reverberating through the old farmhouse.

“He really is just a kid,” Clark murmured.

“He is,” Bryce confirmed, “And I forgive you too, in case you were wondering.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“I know. Come here,” she opened her arms for him and they embraced for the first time in months.

“I missed you,” he mumbled into her hair, “Does this mean we’re alright now?”

“I may have forgiven you, but I’m still mad at you,” she said into his chest,her voice muted by the thick flannel of his red and blue shirt.

“I’m mad at me too,” he paused for a moment, “I heard you. The other day.” He felt her tense in his arms. Her body grew rigid, so his arms just held her tighter, “It’s okay. You could’ve told me.”

“I know,” she whispered, “We’ll talk about it later.”

“I’m glad we will have a later. I wasn’t sure you’d want me back.”

“There was never any question about that.”

Clark reached into his pocket. The left back one of his 10-year-old stone-washed jeans. He pulled out a ring and held the glistening diamond in front of Bryce, “Do want this back?”

“I do.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven years later and the Wayne household gains another resident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time skip! 7 years have passed since chapter 3 and batfam has grown, Bryce and Clark have gotten married and there's more exciting news.
> 
> New additions and ages:  
> \- Bryce: 36  
> \- Clark: 36  
> \- Dick: 20 (been Nightwing for 2 years)  
> \- Conner: 20 (always assumed to be the same age as Dick)  
> \- Jason: 16 (taken in at 13, when Dick was 17; trained for a year before becoming Robin at 14, when Dick became Nightwing)  
> \- Tim: 14 (newly adopted; has a better relationship with Jason as Jason never died; will become Robin when Jason becomes Red Hood at 17/18)  
> \- Surprise character (won't add tag until chapter 5 and there will be a chapter 5)
> 
> enjoy! x

**_Seven years later_ **

“Boys! Time to get up!” Clark called as he paced back and forth across the hall that housed the bedrooms.

He then heard socks shuffling against kitchen tile as a heavy body slouched into a wooden dining chair, sloppily laying a bowl of cereal on the matching table. As he continued to listen, Clark heard a drowsy, cracking baritone mutter, “I’m already up.”

Satisfied that one teenager was at least slightly awake, Clark crept into the bedroom of the other one. Black-out curtains drowned the room in blackness, the hum of the mountain of computers and screens on the desk provided a rhythmic tune to match the whispering snores from the bed and the leaning towers of books on the floor created an intricate maze for Clark to navigate. He traversed the room and looked over the bed. He scooped the figure, previously shrouded in duvets, blankets and pillows, up and floated over to the door. The small huddle of a person groaned and slowly blinked his eyes open, “Why do you only ever do this to me?”

“Because, Timbo, you seem to be the only one that can’t get out of bed when told to.”

“Dick and Conner never get up this early,” Tim mumbled.

“That’s because Dick and Conner are old enough to get themselves out of bed. Also, it’s their fault if they fail their finals because they can’t wake up in time for college.” Clark dropped Tim onto the carpet, making sure he stood easily on his feet. He the dropped his own head down to Tim’s ear, “If you get downstairs in the next ten seconds Alfred might still have some pancakes for you.” Tim bolted and shot down the stairs faster than a speeding bullet, leaving Clark to chuckle fondly at his departure as he turned back to his own bedroom. He waltzed through the door and slotted himself between the maroon sheets, slinging his arm over the figure on the other side of the bed and placing a kiss on their shoulder.

“Go away, Clark. I’m tired,” she said into the pillow.

“You were the one that didn’t come to bed until one o’clock in the morning.”

“I had things to do.”

“Like spying on our children?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Have you seen them this morning?”

“No. Were they still out by the time you came up?” She hummed in response. “Bryce, they’re probably in bed, unconscious. We won’t see them ’til noon. But, are we gonna see anything else by noon? You’re ready to pop soon, right?”

“God, you make me sound like a confetti canon,” Bryce grumbled as Clark laughed joyously.

“I’m just excited,” he said hugging his wife close.

“Impatient. You’re going to have wait two more weeks.”

“But, I don’t wanna,” Superman whined, “I really want to meet him.”

“Why are you so convinced it’s a he? Don’t you want a daughter?” Bryce pouted, turning to face Clark bringing her hand up and down his muscled arm.

“Oh, no. I’m not falling for that.”

“I’m outnumbered, Clark. I need another girl in the house.”

“You’ve been outnumbered for the last eleven years,” he informed, climbing out of the bend and gently pulling his pregnant wife with him.

“And the level of testosterone in my general vicinity doesn’t stop increasing.”

“Come on. Alfred’s making pancakes.”

-

**_04:00, earlier that morning_ **

Nightwing and Superboy sat on the edge of Wayne Tower, dangling their legs over the side listening to the symphony of car horns, shouting vendors and the pulsing base emanating from the line of clubs on Main Street. Conner laxly slouched against the gravel lining the perimeter of the helipad as Dick swung his legs back and forth, unable to sit still for a second.

Suddenly, Superboy sat up like a ram-rod and tilted his head minutely to the left; a habit Dick had learned to be an indicator of Conner using his super-hearing.

“What is it?” Nightwing whispered.

A pause.

“Down!” Superboy shouted. The two young heroes dropped off of the ledge as knives flew over their heads. They momentarily hung in the air as Superboy grabbed the edge of Wayne Tower with the fingers of his right hand while outstretching his left to grab Nightwing before he fell further. A well-practiced and very successful manoeuvre. Superboy threw Nightwing into the air, who then summersaulted and landed expertly on the gravel. Superboy launched himself into the air and landed on the roof with a powerful thud, displacing the gravel. The two young men, both dressed in black, armoured super-suits; one with a blue eagle chest plate, the other with a red ’S’-shield emblazoned on his chest, stood face-to-face with equally dark figures who proudly displayed polished weapons.

“Oh crap,” Nightwing sighed.

“You know who these people are?”

“Unfortunately,” he murmured. Nightwing then called out, “Can anyone of you guys tell me what the League of Shadows is doing in Gotham?”

“Where is the Batwoman?” One of them sneered.

“Busy. You’re gonna have to deal with us instead.”

One of the ninjas commanded something in a language neither Dick nor Conner understood. Then a dozen armed soldiers, dressed head-to-toe in dark, tightly bound cloth charged the two heroes with their swords and daggers poised above their heads. The clash of metal against 3D-printed armour echoed through the damp Gotham sky as Nightwing grunted against the force of some of the hits and Superboy tried his best to restrain himself and avoid breaking faces.

“Why do all the loons come out in the morning? Can’t they do anything before midnight?” Nightwing groused, “I’m really -“

“If you say that you’re ‘really not feeling the aster’ I’m going to punch you in the face.” Superboy grunted, “It wasn’t funny when we were thirteen and it still isn’t funny now.”

“Since when were you all grouchy?”

“Since it’s four in the morning, I’m punching a ninja in the stomach, it’s wet and I have a paper due on Friday.”

Before Dick could return an appropriate quip, another order in that same unknown language sounded and the ninjas stopped fighting, they sheathed their weapons and retreated, leaving a single visible figure on the roof with them.

“Why do you not call for the Batwoman?” He said in a light, presumably middle-eastern accent. His voice familiar to Dick, but he couldn’t seem to place it.

“She’s indisposed. She won’t come.”

“I need to speak with her.”

“Well, you’ll just have to settle for us,” Conner cut in becoming increasingly frustrated. Conner heard steps slowly but confidently come closer.

The figure came out from the dark and stood under the stream of moonlight painting the centre of Wayne Tower. He breathed in and out, calmly, exuding an air of assumed confidence, “I assume you’re still trustworthy, Richard. I’d hate to make the wrong assumption.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!” Nightwing demanded through gritted as he recognised the man, who’s chocolate hair was styled in a perfect quaff and his salt and pepper beard decorated his square, golden face.

“I see you still don’t like me. I never did think you’d grow out of your childish tendencies. I’m uncertain whether I’m glad to be proven right. I’d like to see Bryce.”

“Are you deaf or something? We already told you, you can’t!” Conner griped agitatedly.

“Who is this, Richard? He is irritating.” The figure stated, absently pointing a limp finger at Conner.

“He’s not your concern, Taron. What do you want?”

“That’s Taron?”

Conner’s sputtering went unnoticed as Taron continued standing, reeking of arrogance, “If you cannot have The Batwoman come to me, you will at least relay my message.”

“Which is?”

“My father has been killed and I must restore order to the League. We were overthrown by my father’s second in command. He was unhappy with certain arrangements. Richard, I need you to give a gift to my Beloved and tell her something important,” he whistled and Conner heard rustling; the rubbing of cloth against cloth, in the darkness. Both his and Dick’s eyes grew wide and confused as a small, black-haired figure with honey-coloured skin and green eyes stepped from the shadow.

“Shit,” the two young men murmured in surprise.

“I am asking you, Richard, to take Damien, my son, to his mother and protect him.”

-

**_04:30_ **

“I could have driven, you know. I know how,” Damien sneered indignantly. The brat slumped in the back seat of the Batmobile but still managed to seem obscenely arrogant.

“You’re ten-years-old, it’s not legal,” Dick gritted.

“I’m still so confused,” Conner admitted, his head rolling against his seat as his aqua eyes narrowed at the street lights passing at high speed, “Bryce said -“

“I know what she said,” Dick cut in, unable to hid the upset in his carefully hushed tone, “I had to live that remember. I’m not going to forget one of the worst moments of my life or hers.”

“I just don’t understand,” Conner said, equally quiet and mindful of their passenger, “How is he here?”

Dick sighed and eyed the boy in the backseat through the rearview mirror, “I have an idea, but we’ll talk about it later.”

-

**_7:00_ **

“Clark, I swear to God, if you don’t sit down, eat your breakfast, and leave me alone right now, I’m going to stab you with my fork,” Bryce threatened, glaring daggers at the Man of Steel while clutching tightly to her fork. A look of true look of fear passed across Clark’s face as his usually sun-kissed skin paled and his bright eyes lost a bit of colour as he stopped his fussing. Jason and Tim burst into a fit of giggles as Alfred carried on dishing up pancakes.

“If Lex Luthor could see you now!” Tim sniggered.

“Seriously Clark, would’ve thought you’d have learnt by now not to mess with a pregnant lady,” Jason added, “Especially Bryce.”

“We probably should’ve guessed that Superman would’ve been a mother-hen, though,” mused Tim.

“I’m not,” Clark exclaimed.

“Yes, you are,” the teens chorused.

Bringing over several bowls of fruit and mugs of herbal tea, Alfred offered, “Master Clark isn’t ‘mother-henning’, he is simply just excited and protective of his unborn child.”

“Exactly. Thank you Alfred,” Clark cheered, throwing his arms out in thanks, “I’m just being protective.”

“If I remember correctly, Master Wayne was just the same when Ms Wayne was pregnant.”

“And for four of the nine months she was pregnant with me she slept in a guest bedroom because Dad annoyed her with his ‘protection’ so much,” Bryce chimed, “I remember her telling me about it on my birthday one year. How many times did she threaten to divorce him?” She asked dryly, a smug smirk playing at the edge of her lips.

Alfred cleared his throat and busied his hands, “Yes, well, Master Clark at least you are still sharing a room with Ms Bryce.” Jason and Tim’s laughs picked up again with renewed vigour until a very white, very worried looking Dick, still wearing the leggings of his suit but with a baggy grey t-shirt, entered the kitchen.

“Dick, did you just get in?” Bryce greeted, confusion marring the furrow of her brow. It was seven in the morning, Dick had never gotten in so late before.

“No. I was in the cave. Conner and I, we weren’t sure how to tell you.”

“Tell us what?”

“Um,” he stuttered, “we, uh, found something on patrol.” He felt sick. Dick was sweating, his hands were shaking and he couldn’t breath. His brother was back. The brother he never got to know because he never got to see the world when he was born. His throat felt thick and his jaw hurt as tears threatened to spill from his tired eyes. Bryce stood from her seat and, somehow, elegantly waddled over to Dick. She hated more than ever that she could no longer smother him in a hug, covering his head with hers as he wrapped his arms around her waist. At times like these, Bryce got the feeling that occasionally Dick hated it too. “We’ve been down in the cave for the last two hours trying to figure out how to … um, Conner’s with the, uh, thing in the living room.”

“Dick,” Bryce started softly, “What’s going on?”

“You’re going to have to come a see for yourself. I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you. And, just in case, I think Alfred should come as well.”

Dick clasped Bryce’s hand and gently pulled her across the entrance hall of Wayne Manor to the living room door. His steps uncertain and his hand increasingly clammy. Alfred dutifully followed, as did Clark after telling Jason and Tim to remain in the kitchen. With a single hand, Dick pushed the door open. Conner, who had been pacing by the bay window, halted but continued to chew on his fingernails, his face indecipherable as he looked between Bryce and a small figure who sat on the sofa like a statue carved from stone.

“Mom, um, this is Damien. _Your_ Damien.”

The boy turned to the door and stood from his seat. He looked over the figures in the doorway, successfully hiding his confusion at the tears running down Dick’s and the woman’s faces, and the startled surprise of the man who looked like a servant, as well as the man in checked pyjama bottoms and a blue t-shirt who stared with wide-eyed, open curiosity. Damien held out his hand for it to be shook and kept his prim, stiff voice, “Mother, I presume.”


End file.
